can you ***** my finger and measure the dopamine in my veins? collect my teardrops and tell me if i'm going to be okay? can you light up the darkness with magical pills?
decide if i'm too sad to go to school?
can you tell me if i'm just being melodramatic? measure my blood pressure, maybe that will work. write me a prescription for 5 Happy Days in a row, and 3 hugs from Someone I Love.

doctor, doctor
i'm not feeling well today
doctor, doctor
i don't know if i should stay

sadness isn't a sickness, but it's infected my mind. can you write me some antibiotics to get them out in time?

sadness isn't sickness, but i think i might've caught something from doing a little too much of Having No Friends. don't you know how much i've been Laying In Bed?
sadness isn't sickness, but i think i'm coming down

doctor, doctor
i've got a severe case of the I Don't Want To Lives
can you write me a prescription?
make it go away?

doctor, doctor
you've let me down this time
doctor, doctor
i'm not in my prime

can you tell that i'm not healthy?
'cause i don't think you can
oh, sadness isn't sickness,
but it's fatal,
if all goes according to plan

there are some who want a thinner waist
and others who just don't like the taste
of food they feel they do not deserve

some eat cake with their eyes
while others are busy planning their demise
one wants to see bones, another, headstones

one could love themselves if they were just 40 pounds thinner
"maybe i'll love myself if i just skip dinner"
the other has no appetite, a battle with calories she does not fight

a battle, rather, with herself
to **** herself or stay in living hell
too preoccupied to care what is on the pantry shelf

there are some who want a thinner waist
and others who just don't like the taste
of food they feel they do not deserve

if i can't make you snort with laughter on your sad days, do not stay with me. i do not deserve you
if i can't make you giggle like a little ******* your tired days, find someone else, i'm begging you.
if i can't even make you smile on the days that you kind of hate me, then i am not the one for you, i promise.

and if i don't have you feeling otherwise on days where you find that maybe you don't want to be alive,
leave me
leave me.
for there is someone better out there for you

you deserve someone who fills your life with color and makes you happier than you ever thought you could be
if i can't be that for you,
if i can't make you feel that kind of love,
leave me
please leave me.
for there is someone better out there for you
you deserve them

thanks *******

your fingerprints are on my heart and i haven't quite been able to get rid of them at all
it's been six months and i owe my current boyfriend an apology because ****, i don't love him
i never asked for these lingering prints and i've tried so hard to get rid of them but tears did not wash them away, and loneliness did not erase them. now im learning that a heart in new hands will not cover your marks either and to my boyfriend, i'm so incredibly sorry, but you're not him

i am tired of talking to adults no i do not want to see a dermatologist or a psychologist or a psychiatrist or a nurse no school counselor i am definitely not having suicidal thoughts and no doctor i do not want to talk about the results of my mental health survey. of course dr. cook i am totally open to the idea of taking an antidepressant dear god i am tired of talking to adults do not want to be diagnosed i do not want to talk about it stop worrying about me, no, 'i am not depressed,' this is my life so thank you for not making me sign a life pact but leave me alone i am not going to cry in front of another strange adult. do not diagnose me. all i want is to be normal, i am tired of the pills. i am done with talking to adults

i am not the girl you will fall in love with upon first sight
i am made of late nights, busy days, and a long hard past
i am not a pair of legs
i am the sum of all my thoughts
and everything i aspired to be when i was little
i am not a pair of almond-shaped eyes
i am a soft kiss on your cheek and your face nuzzled into my neck when it's 2 am and you can't handle everything
you will not fall for me upon first sight
but you will fall for me
slowly
as you get to know me
and i wouldn't have it any other way

DEPRESSION IS REAL.
depression is not being sad. depression is gray-tinted glasses that affect how you see the world, depression turns your emotions from stone to glass, you never knew the meaning of "emotionally unstable" until someone drops you half of a foot and you shatter. until someone cancels on you and somehow you find yourself sobbing in your room because the demons in your head tell you that nobody ******* cares about you, nobody ******* cares about you, nobody ******* cares about you.
depression is real. i can feel it in my chest and on my eyelids and in my head and i can even feel it's iron death grip on my throat.
some days i swore to God there was a four-ton elephant sitting pretty on my chest, but i was the only one who could see it. some days there were five-pound weights hanging from my eyelids and the only way to keep myself awake was to pump myself so full of caffeine that my hands shook while my eyes were still tired, making me exhausted and anxious and hyperactive all at once. some days it took hold of my head, squeezing my eyes so that my reflection was warped and twisted and grotesque, whispering into my ears that i needed to eat less. you need to eat less. some days it attacked my heart. i can not describe the sensation better than to say that some days it felt like my aortas were being beaten by dull wooden stakes or like my blood had been replaced with icewater.
you're sitting in class enjoying a captivating psychology lecture when that thought pops in your head: "why are you even alive?" and your blood freezes, your ribs tighten, and something grabs hold of your windpipe so that all you can do to not say "i want to die" when the teacher calls on you is shake your head and say "i don't know."
you're sitting in math class and you're supposed to be learning about integrals but all you can think about is everyone's reactions if you didn't wake up the next day; you're sick but all you notice is that no one noticed you were gone. maybe no one would notice if you were gone.

one year, food was all that could make me feel happy; i found hope in the dopamine rush from the sugary calories; i rejoiced at the satisfactory feeling i got from devouring half of a pan of brownies.
the next year, yes, i know i have always loved dark chocolate but today i just can't seem to taste it. or anything for that matter.
the only thing i could get myself to ingest were liquids that would take my memories away for a while. i had no problem pouring cheap caramel apple ***** down my throat but could not get myself to pick up a golden delicious and bite into it because i knew i wouldn't have be able to finish it anyway.

depression is real. depression is a ****** up monster that leaves no part of you untouched and can steal the very essence of who you are if you let it. depression can ******* rip you apart. someone will tell you that they love you and all you will be able to say in return is "no you don't."
depression takes away who you are. because you haven't always cried every day, you haven't always been unable to eat, you used to be able to stomach an "i love you" and you used to smile when you saw your little sister.
this is not you, this is depression, depression is real. you are not pretending, you are not 'not trying', you are not 'broken'; honey all you have are some unbalanced chemicals in your brain. but we're going to try as hard as we can to make them go back to normal. i know you're in there.

depression is real. but so are you.

you can't feel other people's hurt, but you can read it

if he kisses you and it doesn't feel like his love is penetrating your veins through your mouth, if he kisses you and you feel like you owe him something more, if he kisses you and it feels like his tongue is searching for a "yes" in the back of your throat, if he kisses you and you don't feel like it is a direct pouring out of his love for you from his mouth to yours, if he kisses you and time doesn't stop, if he kisses you and the room doesn't spin, if he kisses you and you're not floating, if he kisses you and his lips aren't the only thing keeping you grounded, if he kisses you and he doesn't need both hands to steady himself, both hands to keep his grip on your beautiful face so he doesn't get lost in you then darling, he is not for you.
if he kisses you and it doesn't feel like he loves you, then darling, i am sorry, but he is not the one for you.

you never tried to analyze me.
you never took a flashlight to the darkest parts of my mind, never checked my aching bones to make sure they were alright.
you never checked my lungs to see that they were filled with water, never saw my shoulders, the burden they were under.
you only saw my face, readied and pristine, my face constantly smiling whenever i heard your name.
you never examined the backs of my eyes to see what keeps coming back, never checked my spine to see if something makes it crack.
you never checked my muscles, you never checked my heart. if you had dusted it for fingerprints, you would've only found his marks



[this heartbreak hollowed out my bones, and weighs a thousand pounds, it pushed me underwater, but your name, i can't quite drown out. you're trapped inside my head, i hope you do get out, you're the burden i am under, i really have no doubt. if you had checked for fingerprints, you wouldn't have been invested, if you had checked my heartstrings, you wouldn't have been tested.
you failed the science test this time and i'm so sincerely sorry. but if you had checked for variables you wouldn't have had to worry]

do not fall in love with a romantic.
when he leaves you, every red rose you come across will remind you of the ones he surprised you with

do not fall in love with a romantic.
the song he would play for you on his guitar will echo in your ears for years; each time you hear it will feel like a small dagger in a fresh wound

do not fall in love with a romantic.
for two years, your heart will jump at every unexpected knock on your door, because you think that maybe it's him on another surprise visit.
eventually, you will guessing that these unexpected knocks are your new boyfriend, surprising you. your heart will jump, then fall. your new boyfriend doesn't make surprise visits

do not fall in love with a romantic.
you will find yourself naked in your boyfriend's bed crying about how you think he doesn't love you
because he doesn't love you like your old boyfriend did
you'll apologize, and he'll apologize, but he still won't love you like your old boyfriend did

do not fall in love with a romantic.
you'll embarrass yourself drunk texting him a year after you broke up

do not fall in love with a romantic.
i promise you that your boyfriend loves you even though he doesn't compare your lips to sugar and your eyes to oceans.
you are still his beautiful flower, even if he doesn't know how to spell hibiscus

do not fall in love with a romantic.
i promise you that your boyfriend loves you even though he doesn't surprise you with roses
i promise that your boyfriend loves you even though he doesn't write you letters
i promise that your boyfriend loves you even though he doesn't write you poetry
i promise that your boyfriend loves you

do not fall in love with a romantic,
you will never get over it

when you say "no" and he says "please" SAY IT LOUDER
when you say "drive me home" and he says "five minutes" SAY IT AGAIN
when you say "no" and he says "just once" LEAVE
when you say "no" and he says "nobody has to know" SAY GO **** YOURSELF
when you say "no" and he says "but i bought you dinner" GET OUT OF THE CAR
when you say "no" and he says "yes" SAY NO

when you say no, SAY IT LOUDER, SAY IT AGAIN, LEAVE, GO **** YOURSELF, GET OUT OF THE CAR, NO

No.

i've found it much easier to have nothing than to have half of something
even smooth rocks become sharp when you break them in half
that's why i felt so much better when you left
i would rather feel nothing than lay in a bed of broken glass

the smell of old alcohol lingers on my sheets, less potent that of your cologne but it still brings back memories of 2. your face is all i can see in this swirling whirling darkness. 3. i swear i can still feel your hands wrapped around my waist holding me together but they are not there. the only thing you have a grip on now is my 4. heart, beating louder than a runaway train because of cloudy memories of your 5. taste overcoming me. you were so sweet, all that was left in your absence was the melancholy taste of loneliness
i never knew love could be so ironic

i hope my shadow follows you through the rooms of your house
i hope my perfume lingers in your bedsheets and my naked body lingers in your mind
i hope that when you look at your backyard, that all you can see is the red hammock that we broke
and we laughed and laughed
i hope you sit in your living room and remember when i counted the fourteen fake candles. i hope you count them and find fourteen and remember when we kissed on the floor
i hope that blonde hairs litter your possessions. i hope that you find them on your clothes, in your car, in your room, for months after i've left
i don't want to be so easy to get rid of.
i hope my voice has stained all your family photos so that all you can see when you look at them is how cute i thought you were
i hope that the sight of your empty passenger seat physically pains you and i hope that every day you feel as if something important is missing
and i hope that that something important is me  
i hope your lips burn bitter with my aftertaste and your hands grow lonely just like your friday nights without me

i want you to miss me
even if you won't

i don't want you back,
but sometimes your name tumbles out when i'm searching for words

i don't want you back,
but sometimes i think of you and it hurts

i don't want you back,
i know we can't be

i don't want you back,
but i want to know you're happy

i don't want you back,
but i don't want you to hurt

no, i don't want you back,
but i don't want you with her

i was diagnosed with clinical depression, and by clinical depression i mean that the weight of a ten-story building compresses my chest at all hours and my eyelids function like a broken door; i spend all day waiting until i can crawl back into bed and escape the world

the other day i got a D on a test and i cried because i'm not good enough not good enough not good enough

depression is when your lungs are not big enough and your head is not smart enough and you can't breathe can't breathe and can't sort things out

i do not belong here
i do not belong here

you will have days where you will feel ugly and won't want to even leave the house. days like this are important because you will leave the house, and maybe in the process you'll learn that appearances aren't nearly as important as you think. one day you will grow old, and it will be okay.
2. some days you will lay in bed and cry for what seems like forever and that's okay as long as you get up after and appreciate the fact that you're happier then than you were ten minutes ago.
3. nobody is perfect and everybody fails at something so try not to be too ******* yourself when you do too because it really truly is not going to make you anything but sadder. try, sincerely, to be as happy as you can possibly be. i love you

life is horrible sometimes
you'll go from on top of the world
to under it
in a matter of minutes
it happens

life is sad sometimes
but you do not deserve to be sad
so turn your music up loud enough to tune out the loneliness
and drive until you can't feel the tears on your cheeks
sleep, and sleep, and sleep, but then please, get out of your bed
put on your favorite clothes and go to the mall
walk past those boys and know that you look good
even if today is not your day
watch movies that will make you laugh
be around people that will make you laugh
read things that will make you laugh
laugh
go to the pet store and play with some puppies if that's what's going to make you happy
but do not destroy yourself
you are not allowed to destroy yourself
even if you are cripplingly sad
there is help out there
and you are not allowed to destroy yourself
there is happiness out there
all you have to do is find it

when your ex texts you in the middle of the night, "wanna come over?"
tell him
"go **** yourself"
and when the boy who turned you down three years ago because you weren't pretty enough tries to get in your pants, tell him to **** a ****
when the girl you were best friends with in second grade is now too cool for you, tell her that you never liked her anyway
when your mother tells you that you look fat in that outfit, tell her that it's the new trend.
when your father lays a hand on you, call the cops.
when your boyfriend cheats on you, leave him.
when life bites, bite back.

be your own hero, and your own biggest fan. respect yourself. you are worth so much more

when your daughter tells you that she has an eating disorder, believe her.
do not mock her, do not tell her she is wrong. though you could not hear her in the bathroom on her knees at christmas or on her birthday or after dinner, listen to her now.

know that after she reveals this and runs crying to her room that she will lie directly on her floor and place her ear to the carpet and she will hear you discussing her declaration like a bad movie, a critic to the fact that yes she still has all her teeth, but you do not know anything about disorders.

when your son mentions at the dinner table that your daughter thinks she may be depressed, do not shake your head. do not continue your meal, do not let her escape to her room immediately upon mention of the subject. do not shake your head, and do not continue your meal.

when you ask your daughter if she wants to see a psychiatrist and she does not say no, take her. make an appointment, do not cancel it. take her.

after an argument, when your daughter refuses to hug you, do not be offended. do not make a sarcastic remark about how she is "really helping the situation," that will not help the situation either. only know that she is hurt, and that she is only sixteen.

when you buy your daughter acne treatment and teeth whitener and brand new makeup and pore strips and she refuses to use them, do not yell. rather, attempt to fathom why your daughter may be boycotting your unrequested purchases, and try to find three things about her more important to you than her appearance.

when your daughter tells you that last night she sat in her closet for an hour so that she could be safe from you due to the way her her heart races and her palms sweat every time she hears the sound of your footsteps outside of her room, please reevaluate the way you talk to your daughter.

when your daughter tells you that she is sick and that she cannot go to school for the fifteenth separate time this semester, ask her about in what ways she is feeling ill, because one does not contract the flu fifteen separate days over the course of five months. that is not how the flu works. it is not likely that she has been physically ill to the point where she will lay in bed until past the time she was supposed to be getting home from school. do not accept the fact that she has a "headache" and do not let her tell you that she is just fine, because she is not.

when your daughter stays up all night doing homework but does not complete her work, do not nag at her. do not tell her that you and her father are "just waiting for her to have a mental breakdown" or to “stay out of your face when she loses her mind” like you know she will, do not tell her for the twentieth time to get her life together. it will not help her get her life together.

when your daughter tells you that she thinks she may be depressed, listen to her. do not fail to notice the words "years" or "finally".
do not simply forget about it, do not wake the next morning and assume that just because she is at the breakfast table eating her cereal that all is well. do not assume that last night she did not make a detailed plan to **** herself and that the only thing that stopped her was a line of a song, and a boyfriend.

when you notice that your daughter has stopped going out with friends, stopped going to practice and stopped trying in school, do not yell. do not lecture. try to predict what she may stop doing next. but do not yell.

do not say things like that she is “upsetting  your  household” statements like that make it very clear in the head of your daughter that the household she lives in is not also hers, and that you do not want her around. do not make careless statements in front of your teenage daughter.

though you may not know that the most common word in all of her google searches is “depression,” it should not take that for you to realize that she has a problem. though you did not see her ask the internet how many of her vitamins she would have to take until she could be sure she would not wake up, it should never have gotten this far.

do not tell her that you are sorry. it will be too late.

you are full of tears
but that does not make you sad
you can get emotional but you are so much more than a shipwreck
maybe you get upset sometimes but that does not reduce you to a puddle of saltwater

you am so much more than sad.
you are strong, you are intelligent,
you are sweet, you are wonderful.
maybe you are sad but you are also inspiring and beautiful and valuable and unique

do not ever let yourself be defined by an illness. do not let a boy leave you because you are "sad", because you are so much more than a tear on your cheek, you are so much more than ugly crying, you are so much more than smeared makeup and sad is a feeling, not a state of being, not a personality trait.

do not ever let yourself be reduced to just "sad"
and tell that boy to go **** himself because you are so much more than sad

there's a blister on the ******* of my left hand
from carving pumpkins with you
my toes are still painted pink from when we went to the school dance
and there's a scar on my right cheek from when my brother got too angry and you
were the first one i called
but
the blister will heal
the scar will fade
and i think i just might paint my toes green

your memories will fade
and i will be okay

five.
five days ago you came over. we broke up two months ago and we hadn't kissed since, but then we were wrestling and you pinned me and we paused for what seemed like forever until you kissed me. we kissed like we were making up for lost time, until we went upstairs to lay in bed together. i wrapped myself around you, hand in hand and head on chest and heart, mine, in your hands. happiness flowed through my veins.
four.
four days ago, i show up at 12:30. you're drunk. you barely say hello. i help you to the couch, you fall off, i help you back onto the couch. you're covering your eyes, does the light hurt your eyes? here, drink this water. i got you a straw. drink it all up! you'll thank me tomorrow. you want to go to bed? i stop you from falling down the stairs and tuck you in. i come back ten minutes later and she's trying to crawl into bed with you, i tell her to leave. i ask if it's okay for me to get in bed with you. i have 8 inches on the wrong side of the bed, but that night, i was the big spoon, and we slept. my arm over your waist and my heart, again, in your hands. we wake up, it's valentine's day. good morning, how are you feeling? i rub your back and you bury your face in my neck. you tell me you have to work till 8. i hurry home from the mall before 8 and almost decide to visit you at work. i change my mind. you text me at 9, they made you stay late. your parents wouldn't let you go out. i cry, but it's okay. i understand.
three.
three days ago, you apologize for not treating me better and thank me for putting up with you. you promise to be better in the future. i start crying because i feel like you're not trying. we talk on the phone for three hours, all is forgiven. i spend half an hour telling you cheesy pick-up lines. we say goodnight at 1:45am.
two.
you promised me we would hang out, but it started snowing and your parents wouldnt let you. okay, but if you break another promise i'll be mad. i cry, but it's okay. goodnight, i love you too
one.
yesterday, you asked me to hang out at 1 o'clock. i want you to plan it, but i eventually give in and say lets go ice skating. you come over at 1, we watch mean girls and hold hands. then we go skating. "hey, is it okay if i go to winter formal with this girl, just as friends?" no, if you want me back you have to act like it. "okay, i'll tell her i can't go" okay.

one.
yesterday, you hung out with her until 12:30, and then drove straight from lunch with her to my house. you let something slip and i made you show me your phone. i start yelling at you. i continue yelling at you. don't touch me. i'll block your number right now, don't even worry about it.
two.
two days ago you casually told your church friends about "doing stuff" with her on valentine's day.
three.
three days ago we talked on the phone for three hours. we hang up at 1:45am, you text her at 1:47. "are you up?" yes, she's awake. "love ya" "i meant what i said. i care about you." 2:06 and you go to bed.
four.
four days ago was valentine's day. you said "i was so confused when i woke up next to her. it was so weird" you told me you worked till 8. you worked till 7, stopped by her house for two hours, went home at 9. i guess "basically dating" doesn't include on valentine's day.
five.
yesterday i made you show me your phone, and this is the conversation you had about five days ago. "why did you go over to Eva's house on friday?"  
"she was upset and i had nothing better to do."  
"why did you kiss her?"  
"i didn't, she kissed me and i just went with it."
"why were you hanging with her?"
"i don't know. trust me i would've rather been with you."

zero.
today i found out that after eight months, you told her you never loved me. i guess you really never loved me.

i say that i am
"so done with estrogen"
you might not understand

im tired of the stretch marks
on these sacred double D's
tired of all the boys
who don't take me seriously
im tired of the looks
when i wear a shirt that's deemed too low
im tired of the acne
my young teenage skin shows
im tired that i hate you
and that we can't be close
because you are my mother
it should not be so.
im sorry that i was up at two am
and cried because i have no friends
blame it on my "***"
or whatever you would like
im sorry that it happened, just another part of teenage life

im tired of not being able to walk home by myself
because i'm "fragile," and it's dangerous
im tired that i can't be tall
because i have no *****
and being ashamed of my physical traits
when i really have no reason
im tired of putting on makeup
whenever i go out
using dyed red chemicals
to perfect my pout
im tired of being paid less
than my male counterpart
and being stopped by a glass ceiling
when i try to work
im sorry that im here
i know that i should be at home
caring for some children, or talking on the phone
i just had to tell you
that there's meaning behind my words
when i say that im "so done with estrogen"
im really saying much more